Cause and Effect
by strangertrack
Summary: Shouichi. Byakuran. A tangled relationship reaching back to childhood.
1. Chapter 1

**Cause and Effect  
Part 1**

* * *

It would be so simple to kill Byakuran in bed. His defenses are down, there are no guards, and he isn't even wearing his ring (semen and blood are such a bitch to clean out once they harden).

There's a gun in his discarded jacket, one that Byakuran has insisted he carry ("_for your own protection, Shou-chan_" - said with a knowing smile and calculating eyes). It's loaded with five rounds, more than enough for the lousiest shot. Not that Shouichi would miss at this distance, no matter how badly his hands would shake and his vision would blur.

There's a good chance he would get away with the murder. A majority of the old Giglionero family still resent Byakuran for the forced merger, their second-class status and the dead puppet eyes of their once vibrant boss. With Byakuran dead, there would be a scramble between the remaining White Spell and the Black Spell to take control. Whichever side won, the power would be more than halved during the in-fighting, and they would be in no position to carry on with the Tri-ni-sette policy.

Shouichi could slip away in the confusion and seek refuge with the Vongola. Or perhaps he could return to his family and a normal life where success isn't measured in terms of how many enemies you kill.

"Shou-chan," Byakuran murmurs happily in his sleep, unaware that the man he's dreaming of is having his own waking dreams, fantasies about freedom and nightmares about a future without him.

It would be simple, but it is also impossible. Shouichi cannot kill Byakuran.

xxxxx

Vongola Decimo wastes no words. "No."

"We have no choice!"

"There's always a choice," Vongola Decimo corrects, gently but firmly. The flames in his eyes are warm with kindness, kindness that they cannot afford.

Although it is this rumored kindness to the enemy that allowed Shouichi to approach, knowing there would be no trap and no blackmail if the deal goes sour, it still frustrates Shouichi that the Vongola Decimo continues to be so obtuse.

"It's that kind of foolish idealism that led you to destroy the Vongola rings," Shouichi accuses angrily and he's lucky that the Vongola's right-hand man isn't here to see his boss take the abuse. "But it didn't change anything, except weaken your own defense."

"I won't kill a child for crimes he has yet to commit."

"But he _will_! He already _has_! You've seen it yourself!" Shouichi bangs his fists on the table, desperate to hammer the point in. "Your home tutor and the other Arcobaleno, that was all Byakuran-san's doing. And he won't stop there. He'll continue to target your friends and family until he destroys all of you!"

"I'll stop him."

"There's only one way to do that!" Shouichi insists vehemently. "You must kill him before he comes into his powers."

"I'll find another way."

There is true conviction in Vongola Decimo's statement that gives Shouichi pause and lights a spark of hope. This man is not being naive. He understands the gravity of the situation, has suffered loss and setback, but hasn't let grief tear apart his belief in morality, in his innate sense of justice. His strength stems from experience in fighting against the odds and winning, of winning not for the sake of cheap pride or material gain, but because he truly believes in every cause he fights for.

Maybe this man can actually do it.

Then the realist in Shouichi takes over and and he is drowning in despair. He had spent so much time agonizing about this decision, whether he could actually betray Byakuran. It has never occurred to him that the Vongola Decimo might not agree to the plan.

"If you won't personally do it then maybe the Varia-"

"This is why I hate weak herbivores," Vongola Decimo's guardian speaks up for the first time. His heels click hard and precise toward Shouichi and for the first time since the meeting started, Shouichi feels his life in danger. "So easy to order executions but you won't dirty your own hands, will you, Irie Shouichi?"

"Hibari-san," Vongola Decimo says mildly and Shouichi isn't sure why he's so surprised that the cloud guardian backs down.

"This device you mentioned," Vongola Decimo resumes the conversation. "Please explain a little more about how it works."

"But you just-"

"I won't kill the Byakuran from the past. But there may be another way to use it to level the playing field."

xxxxx

Byakuran is waiting for him in his room when he returns, stretched out on his bed, boots dirtying the white sheets and crumbs from an open package of chips littering his pillow.

"Welcome back, Shou-chan! How was your trip?" Byakuran asks cheerfully, tossing aside one of Shouichi's manga that he's been leafing through.

"It was fine."

"Oh?"

"Modifications to the Melone base will be completed on schedule and the device was transported without any problems," Shouichi elaborates, remembering the supposed purpose of his trip.

"Good good." Byakuran dismisses the expected answers. "Did you get a chance to visit any friends?"

"I didn't find the time."

"Is that so." Byakuran's smile slips and he studies Shouichi shrewdly. "That's a shame. You should make the time. You don't know when you'll get another opportunity, since I keep you so busy."

"Work is more important, Byakuran-san," Shouichi replies stiffly, turning to his desk so that his back is to Byakuran. His documents are open and scattered about his desk, but not in its normal pattern of disarray.

_He's been looking through my stuff again_, he notes with growing coldness. _And he isn't trying to hide it. He _wants_ me to know that he's checking up on me. The only safe place for secrets is inside my own head, only even that may not be safe because I can swear he's rummaging through my thoughts every time he looks at me._

Byakuran gets out of bed and hugs Shouichi from behind, draping his arms over him and placing his chin on Shouichi's left shoulder. "Hey, Shou-chan. I was just thinking back to the first time we met. Do you remember?"

"When you transferred to Yuumei Chuu?"

"Mm... was it only then? It feels like I knew you from before." Byakuran places his fingers across Shouichi's throat and kisses his neck. "Maybe we knew each other in a past life, destined lovers and all that," he says lightly.

"I don't believe in reincarnation."

"So unromantic, Shou-chan," Byakuran complains good-naturedly. "And here I was trying to set the mood."

Shouichi swallows hard. He's tired from his trip, from planning and meeting with Vongola Decimo and then covering his tracks and accounting for the missing time, paranoia of being followed dogging his every step. He needs his space; he can't handle a night with Byakuran, tensely staying awake to prevent his habit of sleeptalking from revealing anything incriminating, unable to shut off his mind from worrying.

It doesn't look like he'll get a reprieve. Byakuran continues to kiss him, unzipping his jacket and sliding a hand beneath Shouichi's shirt.

Byakuran whispers in his ear in low, dulcet tones suitable for seduction.

"Sawada Tsunayoshi is dead."

Shouichi stops breathing.

"Five squads followed a lead and ambushed him just outside Namimori, coming back from a meeting. So careless, don't you think, Shou-chan, walking out in public like that? He only had one guardian with him."

_It's my fault_, Shouichi realizes. _I asked to meet with him in private, away from his family._

Then the real, frightening possibility, _Byakuran-san had me tailed. He knows. He knows! HE KNOWS!_

Shouichi struggles to control his panic and fails miserably. "Are you sure it was him?"

"I was hoping you could confirm it for me, Shou-chan."

"How-"

"This morning at the airport... Iris asked you to deliver a package, right?"

Shouichi fumbles in his pocket and brings out the small jewelry box, the pit of dread in his stomach blossoming into an acute stomachache.

"Open it."

Inside, laid in dark velvet, is an A-class sky ring that he has seen only yesterday. It is still attached to Vongola Decimo's severed finger.

Shouichi drops the box, breaks away from Byakuran, and runs to the toilet, where he promptly vomits up the canned coffee and airplane food he has consumed, then dry-heaves some more.

Byakuran whistles happily from the doorframe until Shouichi is finished. "I decided to promote you, Shou-chan. And I'm assigning two of the Cervello to be your assistants."

"I don't need any help."

"Nonsense. Someone as important as Shou-chan shouldn't get bogged down with petty distractions. They'll be there to take care of your every need so that you can focus on your research. Why, you'll never need to leave the base again," Byakuran says with all the generosity of a king bestowing favor onto his knight. "Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

"Wonderful," Shouichi echoes mechanically, and he washes his face for this is not the time to grieve for Vongola Decimo's death. That can come later, after Byakuran is stopped.

xxxxx

**to be continued.**

xxxxx

I must be crazy to attempt a long fic. But Byakuran/Shouichi has so much room for play. D:

xxxxx

June 29, 2009


	2. Chapter 2

**Cause and Effect  
Part 2**

* * *

Shouichi knows Byakuran well enough to recognize that he's in deep shit. Byakuran may content himself by playing the lovers game now, but forgive and forget is not in his dictionary. Sooner rather than later, Shouichi will be thrown into the incinerator like burnable trash.

The way he figures, there are two reasons that he's still alive, both equally likely. The first is that he's the only one who knows how the time device operates. Shouichi's continuing research is irreplaceable when it comes to the retrieval of the destroyed Vongola rings. The second is that Byakuran wants Shouichi to see it to the end, to witness first-hand the destruction that his invention will cause.

The moment Byakuran's plan comes to fruition, Shouichi's usefulness as both a scientist and a source of amusement will end.

His stomachaches come with increasing frequency, but the ulcer will never get a chance to kill him. That doesn't mean that Byakuran stops trying to crush him with pressure.

Shouichi blanches as he remembers the hangar full of white anemones. The misunderstanding is sweeping through Melone base like wildfire, rumor turning to fact with repetition, that Commander Irie enjoys Byakuran's favor, that he's Byakuran's most trusted man. Byakuran's frequent check-ins (_"my personal parole officer"_, Shouichi thinks wryly) encourages more speculation.

White Spell is looking at him with open hunger, ambitious sycophants plying him with transparent flattery that Shouichi doesn't know how to respond to.

Black Spell is seizing him up, dissecting him for weakness and looking for opportunities to trip him (and by extension, Byakuran) up. The meeting with Gamma confirms his suspicions; the animosity goes all the way up to the captains. Shouichi can expect no help from 3rd Aphelandra Squad. The best he can hope for is that they don't knife him in the back while he's distracted by Byakuran, by the Vongola, by the impending future of doom.

"You handled that well," the Cervello he's taken to thinking of as C2 compliments as they fall into flanking position behind him.

"Thanks..." Shouichi murmurs, knowing this will get reported to Byakuran, like every other action he takes.

He's gotten used to the Cervello shadowing his every step, entering his room at all hours of the night with lists of Vongola casualties, asking for orders on how to handle internal squabbles and looking for updates on the Tri-ni-sette research.

Turning up the music and pretending not to hear their call doesn't work. They're more tenacious than his mother ever was when waking him up to go to school on Monday mornings. The only place Shouichi can lose them is in the restroom, and even then, just barely.

"Wait, Irie-sama," C1 stops him from closing the door.

"I'm going to take a quick shower. I don't need any assistance here."

Both Cervello giggle in that unnerving way of theirs. "Please use this. It's a gift from Byakuran-sama."

Shouichi eyes the "gift" with distrust and makes no move to take it. With the sender being Byakuran, there's no telling what's in the bag. A bouquet of flowers, a box of chocolates, a poisonous snake, a severed head... nothing is outside the realm of possibility.

"What is it?"

C2 pulls out the contents and shakes it out for Shouichi to see. It's a pair of white boxers with marshmallow patterns that looks like it's been taken from Byakuran's closet. Shouichi's almost sure he's seen it before.

"...I don't want it."

"There's a note," C1 reports, still snickering, and C2 leans over so they can relay the message in unison.

"Just imagining you in these makes me want to eat you up~ Byakkun."

Shouichi slams the door in their laughing faces.

xxxxx

"How did you like my gift, Shou-chan?" Byakuran addresses the most important matter first.

"I-it's fine. Thank you," Shouichi lies unconvincingly, uncertain if Byakuran means the thinly concealed threat of the anemones or the sexually harassing boxers. Then, because Byakuran is still waiting, he tacks on, "It reminds me of you."

"That was my plan! I don't want Shou-chan to forget about me, all the way in Japan. You need to work at it, to make these long-distance relationships work."

Shouichi is tired of these games, these pretenses (_at friendship? at love?_) that he is not Byakuran's enemy and that Byakuran is not his jailer.

He feels like a guinea pig in a psychological experiment, designed to test the limits of his endurance, every reaction recorded until they finally, finally break him.

_Screw it_, he thinks, and he can almost hear his patience snap. _I'm dead either way. There's no point cowering in fear._

"Was there something you needed? Or did you run out of subordinates to harass over there?"

"They're poor substitutes for Shou-chan. It's not the same if it isn't you."

"So you admit that you're harassing me. I'd report you to human resources, only the mafia doesn't seem to have a HR unit."

"It's more cost effective to eliminate an complainant rather than going through the grievance procedure. Men are so expendable, aren't they?"

"..."

"Of course, Shou-chan is an exception. You're the only one I won't get rid of, my oldest, dearest friend."

"It's an honor, Byakuran-san," Shouichi says dryly, not believing a single word.

"I mean it, Shou-chan. I still remember all you've done for me, even if you don't. You have a special place in my heart."

"No wonder I feel claustrophobic. The surroundings are so small."

Byakuran bursts out into genuine laughter. "Ah~h~ just like the old Shou-chan. It was a good idea to send you away. A spirited Shou-chan is best, after all."

"Spirited?"

"Mmhmm. You were so strung out and depressed. I was concerned for your health."

"Although it's your concern that makes me most concerned. It's not much of a vacation if you keep calling me."

"But it's only natural to want to hear your lover's voice~"

"I'll send you a recording next time. Good night, Byakuran-san."

"Wait! Shou-chan!" Byakuran says frantically as Shouichi leans in to close the connection. "I still have something to discuss!"

"Five seconds."

"Can you model the boxers for me?"

"Regrettably, I'm not wearing it."

Byakuran's smile widens. "How bold of you, Shou-chan~ I think I like it~"

Shouichi slams both palms down on the keyboard and cuts off the feed.

xxxxx

There are somber men in black suits and dark shades, exchanging condolences in muted Italian. A funeral procession (_for Vongola Decimo? or one of the other countless deceased?_) is underway.

Shouichi watches from the shadows, trying to figure out this dream. For it _is_ a dream; Shouichi never leaves the base anymore, and the last thing he remembers is collapsing into bed.

He waits until the crowd thins and the mourners are few before slipping into the church. He pauses by the registry and reads the deceased's name: Gesso.

_No._

His footsteps echo hollowly as he makes his way up to the open coffin, both needing to confirm and anxious to delay what he already suspects. The scent of incense and orchids assault his senses and his heartbeats spike to dangerous levels. It feels too intense, too real to be a dream.

But it _has_ to be. Byakuran can't be dead.

It takes all his courage to look into the coffin and Shouichi sinks to his knees, overcome with emotion.

"It's not him," he whispers, and he's surprised to realize he's crying with relief. "It's not him." He laughs and he cries, until he becomes aware that he's not alone.

A small boy is staring at him with unmistakable purple eyes.

"Who are you? I've never seen you before."

"I'm the man who will take your death the hardest, although I'm likely the one responsible," Shouichi says honestly, because he's sick of lying to himself outside of his dreams.

Little Byakuran looks frightened, but does not flee.

"Are you the one who killed my mother?"

"Ah, no." Belatedly, Shouichi makes the connection, makes note of the family resemblance.

"But you'll kill me."

"It's something I have to do," Shouichi says apologetically and Byakuran nods his acceptance.

"If you're going to kill me, can you do it now?"

Shouichi startles. The Byakuran he knows does not have a death wish (_or does he? I wonder why he keeps you around?_).

"Aren't you scared of dying?"

"I'm more scared of being alone."

Byakuran kneels at his feet, so small, so weak, so vulnerable, pleading with him for an end.

Maybe Shouichi isn't the only one who wants release. Maybe it's Byakuran's wish as well. Or at least that's what Shouichi's subconscious would apparently like him to believe. Death by betrayal at a lover's hand... that kind of demise _would_ appeal to Byakuran's twisted sense of romance.

Shouichi obligingly reaches out and wraps his hands around Byakuran's throat. He squeezes.

Capillaries burst and ring around Shouichi's tightening hold and Byakuran thrashes involuntarily, clawing at Shouichi's arms and drawing blood.

It _hurts_.

It hurts so much to kill him, even knowing it's not real.

He can't carry through. The stress is too much.

This is the point where he usually wakes up, gasping for air as if he's the one being asphyxiated.

The dream doesn't end. Byakuran only turns bluer.

Realization hits him like a ton of bricks and he snatches back his hands as if burned. Byakuran gags on the air and fights not to puke.

"It hurts," Shouichi murmurs in wonderment, digging his nails into his scratches with a wince. "It really hurts. This isn't a dream. This is real."

Somehow, without his knowledge, he has been transported into the past.

xxxxx

**to be continued.**

xxxxx

Thank you to everyone who commented and supports 10051 along with me. They need all the love that they can get. I hope I don't disappoint with where this story leads. ._.

xxxxx

July 5, 2009


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